Wednesday, June 3, 2009


Cool air is just beginning to seep into the house. Spent the day mowing the lawn in a miniskirt; the same one i wore two nights before on the streets of sultry Panama City. It's denim and has that crossover appeal.

In my neighborhood basketballs have been popping on the sidewalks since dawn, neighbors popping off at each other until it seems the whole apartment complex is embroiled in this loud drama that happens when 12 families share one big blacktop, and all the while the Real ice cream trucks are braving our shady little street, staving off the creepier variety with the few sad popsicle stickers slapped on the minivan.

Basketballs. Neighborhood brawls. Ice cream.

This is summer in southeast Portland. It's hot and the dog spends the day holed up inside -- the opposite maneuver than the rest of us who are fairly well free of staying inside for any length of time, now that the sun has arrived and isn't going away. We spend much of the day kicked back in lawn chairs, watching the plants grow and the chickens peck. This is summer, almost anywhere in the USA, played out again and again and again from Georgia to Salt Lake to Portland.

I am back from the farthest south i have ever been, and i have to say the little jaunt to Panama City and back did little to stop the tide of feeling like escaping during our long wet winters, only to return on a day very much like today. There is land to be had, and so many dreams to realize before it can be bought. I have spent an awful lot of time on the road of late, and i have to say i haven't been this elated about life in quite some time. Yet the prospect of settling on to a piece of property that can be bought for a song is what is manifesting from all that time putting one foot in front of the other.

I have to thank my friends SR and SM for some of this. This is my original road crew, never really gone from my life since we did our first big trip way back when, but back in a more significant role this past year. How strange how these things work out; me thinking i am around to remind them of who they were all along... but me getting that same thing from them.

Remembering once again that losing your job is perhaps the best thing that could have happened to you, because it reminds you of who you were and what is still important to you.

1 comment:

Canadian Bald Guy said...

Good to see you return!